Touch
by Odin Roark

Beware the touch
Coming only of flesh
Upon flesh.

Let the caress of words
Mingle as well,
For without sound’s vibration,
The ripple of heart and intellect
Might never coalesce as mindful passion.

Remember too,
Eyes feel,
Tastes massage,
That being ethereally touched by all the senses
Is but love’s many layers in perpetual motion.

But beware…

Like the earth’s core,
Time will keep active our repressed tumult,
Eventually allowing emotion’s molten pressure
To rupture our mantle of reason,
Initiating sufferance of prolonged cooling
Into aging scars of hardened change.

To touch…

How lucid its foreshadow.